The Case of the Missing Detective
by bulletproofsince1999
Summary: John and Sherlock face boredom when a case rises. finally. but upon the thinking portion of their adventure, Sherlock goes missing, and it's up to John to find him... will he?
1. Chapter 1

The Case of the Missing Detective

Chapter 1:Bored

Boredom gets to us all, even the greatest detective of all time: Sherlock. John wished he could cure the one thing that plagues them both at this point in time, but he could hear Sherlock's words echo through his mind as he decided not to do what he wanted, but instead, what he thought he should do, "Sherlock. Calm down, we'll find a case soon enough."

Sherlock looks at his blond flatmate and says, "You don't know that. Just shut up," he sat in his chair, twitching from the energy he couldn't get rid of. "Ugh, John. Why do you have to be so ordinary?" John was confused. _Ordinary? _He thought that maybe Sherlock really was losing his mind from being bored. It happens way too often now for John to be concerned.

"Sherlock?" John asks, nervous. He doesn't know if Sherlock will be mad at him for disturbing his peace.

"What do you want now?" Sherlock says, being a little more rude than he meant to be.

"Well," he couldn't think about his question now. Then he remembered, "Don't you have experiments to tend to?"

"I wish. There's nothing new, they're as boring as you are." he propped himself up the back of the chair he was sitting in, his feet landing and staying on the seat. His robe flew up and around him as he made these motions. John likes the blue on Sherlock, it brings out the blue in his gray eyes. Sherlock is aware that John is staring at him once again; he gets annoyed. "Must you always stare at me?" he asks, again being more rude than he intended.

John immediately looks down at his bare feet, "Sorry." _Great. Now he's sad. _Sherlock thought to himself. Now he felt bad. _Wait. I __**feel **__bad. Oh God. _Sherlock was having an emotion again, and he didn't like the fact that he was having them, again. He liked that they were from John, but not that they were there. _ Do I like John? I don't know. No. _He shook his head. But, does he? Maybe. Whatever.

"Soooooo bored, John!" Sherlock complains. John wished he could just shut him up, but he didn't know what to do except what he should really not do.

Sherlock kept complaining and John was getting annoyed, "Shut up, Sherlock! Just. Shut. Up." Sherlock goes quiet for a moment.

But only to start complaining again, but not about being bored, "You don't have to be mean, John." Sherlock glares at John, the glare dissipates to leave a blank stare.

"What?" John jerks his head to see the stare he could feel. Sherlock looks away, _No. I don't. I never will. It's not right_.John wonders why Sherlock was staring at him. He always does, but not like that. _But this is Sherlock, his face says he's thinking about one thing when he's really thinking about something completely different. _At least John thought that this time was the same, when it wasn't.

Something starts ringing, Sherlock's phone. He jumps up, "Finally!" he answers, "Yes?" his face turns to the one that John established as his bored face when he hears his brother's voice over the phone.

"Sherly. There's a case for you at the apartment of a man and a woman who committed suicide." Of course, John doesn't hear this.

But he does hear, "Don't call me that. Besides, why are you calling and not Lestrade?" John now knows it's his brother. "And why would I look into a case that's so dumb and dull?"

Sherlock hears, "Because I know that they are definitely not suicides. But I want you to go reveal that for me. anyway, the way they did it should set you off." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Sherly. Now get your ass down there to that flat. I'll text you the address." And the phone was shut. Sherlock sighed.

"Time to go get dressed, I guess," and off to his room he was. He came back out in John's favorite shirt (the purple one) and a pair of pants that matched the color of his jacket. John and he pulled on their coats, Sherlock his scarf, and out the door they were as Sherlock's phone chirped in his pocket. His brother did as he said, and texted him the address.

Once they were out on the sidewalk, "Why was it your brother?" John asked, curious.

Sherlock looked at him, _So ordinary, so dumb and so dull._ "Because, the police think they're a suicide."

"They?" Sherlock nodded. John shook his head as Sherlock stopped a cab. He simply showed him the phone and off they were. Sherlock was too busy thinking about… people to be distracted by talking.

While they sat in the cab, somehow John had gotten extremely close to Sherlock when they sat down, and John's fingers brushed Sherlock's when he set them down on the seat next to him. He blushed a little, just enough for Sherlock to notice, and put his hands in his coat pockets. Sherlock only saw the blush because he was looking for it. He wanted to know that John liked him. Because no one else likes Sherlock, except Mrs. Hudson. But she likes almost everyone.

_Oh, John. If only you knew what I really am. You'd never crush on me if you did._ Who Sherlock is, is the only reason he hasn't taken advantage of John's crush he inevitably had on the burnet. Everyone knows it, but John is the only one that won't admit to it. Even Sherlock has admitted to parts of it. Such as, needing his blogger, or that he would be lost without his soldier. But that was it. Everyone thinks they're in a relationship, but they aren't. _Yet. Wait, Yet? Will there be anything between us? Maybe. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: How, But Not Why or Who

They were looking at a murder and Sherlock knew it. Not from his brother, but from the fact that the man was left handed and the woman was right handed, but only the woman could have shot herself. They were both shot from the right side, and from the data that Sherlock could find, the man or woman, he wasn't sure yet, shot them from the doorway and shot the man first. Seeing as the woman's wound wasn't very accurately done but the man's was done perfectly, it suggested that the woman woke up after the man was dead and screamed so, the murderer shot her as well.

The guns? They were only in their hands because of the threat. The woman's was under her pillow and the man's was in the night stand. _Idiots. They think that the murderer stole something, but in reality the gun was the thing taken out of the drawer. Fucking morons._ Sherlock really doesn't like the police at all. But John on the other hand really doesn't care, _I bet Sherlock will prove all these idiots wrong and they'll look like babbling morons. They really need to train these dumb bastards better, even I know the gun was taken from the night stand, not planted on him. God, these people are dumbasses. _

With what Sherlock was finding, the killer was slowly beginning to look not so human. There are no foot prints in the carpet, there are no signs of fear on the couple's faces, there was no sign that anyone but the man and woman were here, except for of course the way they were shot, but still. Sherlock took one last look at the blond and the burnet and told the police what he had found and they were back on the streets with Lestrade, "I just don't get how, if they were murdered, there is almost no sign of the third person." Lestrade was confused, but he knew that Sherlock was probably right. He always is.

When John and Sherlock were in the cab, they ignored the fact that Sherlock had taken John's hand. He said it helps him think, John doesn't think that's the case. But anyway, "But, if the killer isn't human, how will you find them?" John questioned Sherlock's reasoning, for once.

Sherlock was silent, but his mind was turning as much as it could to try to find _What could have done this, and why do it in such a way that it looks so much like no one but those two were in the room? _

Sherlock squeezed John's hand harder, _Damn_ _it! Why can't I think straight? Why'd I take John's hand? It obviously doesn't help me think. Well, about the case anyway. Fuck! Ok, the man was left handed but was shot in his right side, the woman wakes up and screams and is shot in a hasty getaway of the… what in the bloody hell could have done this?! Ah, what in the shitting hell is going on?! I hate not knowing. _Sherlock's grip loosened only a little as John started to think about why Sherlock really grabbed it.

_He's not gay, he said so. He's probably asexual, by the looks and actions of him. Why is it that it's always the cute ones that are always the loneliest? Or the most difficult? Wait, Sherlock is cute? Damn it… _John and Sherlock's heads were both feeling as if they were about to explode. Why did they have to think about each other? Because they think about each other constantly, if they aren't there's something wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: I'll Kiss You, Then Hate You

Mrs. Hudson was just finishing up looking at the holes Sherlock put into the walls. From the shooting, from the mini explosions, from anything else you could think of… if you could think it, Sherlock has done it. _Even John. Either that or someone else was being very loud. It was probably the ones next door. _But Mrs. Hudson liked to believe that John and Sherlock had a special something. Whether it be a relationship or a whatever else, they have something.

Mrs. Hudson stood in the living room when the boys burst through the door. John was sexually frustrated and Sherlock had a huge grin plastered to his face. Sherlock had done it again, he had frustrated John, but this time, it was in a way that John didn't particularly want to leave hanging. But he has to, because Sherlock would never let him… _Well, there was the thing in the cab, but that was just a joke, right? I hope so. Then again, I hope not. _

Mrs. Hudson scampered out of the room as Sherlock sat in his chair, _I bet John thinks it was just a joke. _Sherlock looked at John's questioning stare. _Oh no. he thinks what we all know, but he won't admit. But if he does admit it, the things that… never mind. _Sherlock sat thinking about the case instead of John. John distracted him, if anything he didn't need John, then again, he did. This was so weird for Sherlock.

But the weirdest part was when John pulled out a face that Sherlock couldn't read. _What's he thinking now? Why can't I see right through him like always? What the fuck?_

John left his eyes on his feet, _There are just some things that I would never tell anyone. Even Sherlock. And this has to be one of those things. I hate not letting him know what's going on, but I have to leave. Unless he leaves first, then I could stay here and do it, but only if… _John looked up to find Sherlock staring at him again. "What?"

Sherlock shook his head. Why couldn't he read John? _What is John hiding? __He tells me everything, even when he doesn't think he does. Damn it. _John and Sherlock's thoughts stopped when Sherlock decided he'd had enough of this. "John?"

"Hmm?"

"We need to talk about something. Something that's been going on for a while now. And…" _I don't know what to say, just say, "Hey John, let's go out. And maybe later I'll tell you what I really am." Yeah, that'll run smoothly. Fuck. _

"Talk about…?" _What now?_ John was once again bewildered by Sherlock's actions.

"Us. What are we?" Sherlock simply said.

"Friends. That's it and that's all. Why?" John was getting nervous. _Does Sherlock like me? No. He couldn't quite possibly. But maybe, just maybe. No. He doesn't. Not like that. _

"John. You know as well as I do that we both have more than friendly feelings for each other. You just won't admit it." John was furious. He's not gay. Or, well…

"I'm not…" _Fine. I didn't want to have to do this. But maybe it'll get him to leave the flat for a few hours. _But John couldn't yell at Sherlock. Or could he? "Sherlock, I have feelings for you." he raised his voice, "You don't have feeling for me! You never have and you never will!" _Wait! That's not what I wanted to say! No! _ Sherlock smirked.

"You really think that?" John nodded, giving an angry huff. Sherlock didn't know what to think. He had to leave. He had to go somewhere where he could think of the words that he could say that wouldn't make John hate him more.

"I don't hate you Sherlock, I just… You don't…" Sherlock stopped John's thoughts as he made John stand from the chair he sat in.

"Sh. Don't think." Sherlock pulled him closer, _What am I doing? Why haven't I left yet? _He pulled him close enough to where all of them was pressed together, and their noses were touching. "John, I…" John didn't let him get another word out, because he kissed Sherlock while thinking: _Why am I doing this? Why haven't I yelled at him to leave? Fuck. Shit._ Sherlock melted into John, and they parted. Sherlock didn't say a word and just walked out the door. _Fine. Hate me. I'll hate you, too. _John plopped down in his chair, thinking about what he had to do. He hated it, but it had to be done, or. No, John wouldn't think about that now. The 'or else' was the worst part of the deal he had made with the Demon. Well, the second worst part. The worst was the fact that he didn't even know what the Demon looks like. For all he knows it could be a woman!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: What Has To Be Done

Sherlock was glad that he had gotten out of the flat before things happened and he had to reveal himself at some point. He didn't want to do that just yet. _It's just that, if John knows before he needs to, he would leave and violate every rule. He would also never trust me again. Fuck. Why is loving someone so hard? Why can't I be normal? Why can't I be like John? Why can't I be… _his thoughts were interrupted by his brother's footsteps behind him, then the voice to confirm it, "Are you going to tell John at some point in his life? He may live long, but not forever."

Sherlock turned to face his tall and older brother, "What do you mean he'll live for a long time?" _Is john like me? I hope so, yet again, I hope not. No one would want to be like me. Just saying. _

Mycroft cocked his head at the confused face his little brother gave him, "You really don't know?" _That's a shame. If he did know, he would have hooked up with John already. Guess that's why he hasn't. Hm. But he'll find out soon enough._

"Know what?" Sherlock was now completely lost. For once in his long life, he couldn't pick up a trail and follow it. He'll have to make one.

"You'll find out." Mycroft walked away, feeling as though he was very boring, and Sherlock gets all the exciting mysteries. But it was true, Mycroft was very boring. He always has been. He wishes he could do something exciting and not be so bored, but oh well. _That's what you get, working for the government and all. _

His brother left him on the cold streets to think about what John could possibly be hiding from Sherlock. _What if he's not human? Or maybe he's a criminal? I don't know, God! I fucking hate not knowing what's going on with my blond blogger. I love him, but if he keeps doing this… wait. Do I love him? No. with what I am and do, it's not possible for me to love. Especially if that person has the potential to be human. It's also just gross. _Sherlock shook himself from his damning thoughtand decided to just go back to the flat.

John had finished what he had to do, but now he had to clean all the blood from the wall. He also had to hide the evidence. But he had an idea of how to do that. So, he cleaned up the mess he made, and threw her out the window to make it look like suicide. It worked, she landed face down, and she had enough blood left that it could have been suicide. But how would John hide the self inflicted scars he would have on his arms.

Maybe he should just tell Sherlock. _Maybe I should just let him help me. or think he's helping me. really, I don't need his help to cover it all up. But I probably need his help to control my emotions. _What John feared most was if he got drunk and told the story as he saw it. Which would make Sherlock think of him as the worst thing this universe could spit out. _I'm a disgrace for my_ community. In my home, I wouldn't have to hide it. In fact, I could show off with it, and even get some chics. But here, in the human world, I'm a murdering menace. God, if Sherlock knew. _but he's human, at least I think. If he isn't, he's hiding it really well. but this is Sherlock we're thinking about. If I can hide something like this, he can definitely hide something worse or maybe even less. Why did I do this? Oh yeah, because I'm carrying on a tradition of my village, even though I ran away from there. But the reason I ran, was not because of what I've newly become. If my parents were still alive, I would have stayed, but no. The humans had to turn on all of us, even the little ones who hadn't turned yet._

All of John's thoughts were disrupted by his favorite detective's brother walking through the door, "You have to tell him John. He has to know." Mycroft again, knows everything.

"Why should I? It would make him disgusted by me." John knew that for a fact and hated it.

Mycroft sighed, "You know that's not true. In fact, if you told him, he would offer you his blood and you know that." John shook his head. "Oh well. He won't be back for a while anyway. your Demon has him, and I suggest you hurry, or you'll never get him back to this flat in one piece.

"What would my Demon want him for?" John was about to scream of frustration. _I got rid of that bitch. She got what she wanted, and I got what I wanted. Why is she still around?! _

"She doesn't want him, she wants you. but it'll take you days to find him. And I suggest only making it three, she's bleeding him by the tiniest drop." _Shit! _

"Why aren't you helping?" he questioned Mycroft.

"Because I'm only human. With your change, you could sniff out her, and his blood. You can't tell me you haven't smelled his blood already." _So what if I have? Whatever. I need to find my flatmate. _Before Mycroft left, "Hurry." _I really do worry for my brother's safety. But with John on his case, he'll be found. _"I trust you with this John. Don't let me down." Mycroft swirled around and before John could see the tears that he tried to hide. But John could smell them, _So he does care. Ok, it's time to test myself for real. _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: It's Not Who, It's What

Mycroft was right, it took John three days and two nights to find where exactly Sherlock was. He didn't want to go out, and be disappointed if he didn't find his favorite human, so he had to be completely sure.

Sherlock had been in the hands of the woman who captured him three days ago. She walked into the dungeon she had under a warehouse that she chose. "So, think John is intelligent enough to find you?" she tortured him with words that wouldn't hurt him unless he loved John.

He lifted his head and listened to the drip drop of his own blood as he said, "You know he'll kick your ass. And if he doesn't stop me, I'll kill you. I don't care if you're a Demon. I will kill you!" the burnet screamed at his captor.

She laughed, "Yeah. Ok. In your state? You'll be lucky if you can walk." Then it was silent. His wrist was bleeding into a bucket. Each time it stopped bleeding, she made the cut wider. _What does she want with my John? What has he done? _"John disobeyed me. He left our home to try to become one of us another way. Now he\'s guilty with murder, he left us when the humans took over and killed almost all of us. Now he shall die. As he should have." She left Sherlock once again, to think about how good it would feel to kill her. just wrap his fingers around her throat. Or maybe cut her head off. Or slit her wrists and then her neck.

Upon being captured and bored, Sherlock had come up with a million different ways he could kill the woman that took him from the sidewalk while he was walking home to apologize to John. At the thought of not being able to see John again, he cried. His sobs became more violent each time he thought of him. _It hurts! Why does it hurt so bad? Oh, John! This is the worst. I'm so sorry. I'm so. Sorry…_ that's when a scream violently interrupted Sherlock's thoughts.

It was the Demon. Sherlock started to panic, "Who's out there!" Then it was confirmed that John had hurt her, when both of them burst through the door. John had blood coming from his mouth and she was falling behind, but John had her wrist in his hand. He had gripped it so hard that he broke it.

John saw Sherlock and dropped her immediately. He rushed to his detective, "It's not who," he smiled, "It's what. Sherlock." _What? John, you don't make any sense._

"John," Sherlock warned. "John, no. John!" he turned to meet the Demon that had set her wrist back in place and raised her hand to try to meet John's face.

But John was too fast for her and grabbed her hand. This time, he crushed her fist in his. With each crack, Sherlock squirmed. It sounded so gross. _Her scream. Oh God_. It echoed through the whole building. She kneeled to the pain that john had caused her.

He turned back to Sherlock, ripping the chains from his wrists and ankles. Sherlock tried to stand, but couldn't manage to. He started to complain to John about how he'd be fine, but John ignored him. He just carried him out of the warehouse and to the street where they would catch a cab to their flat. John would fix up Sherlock, then the Demon would come after him again, and he would have to kill her. _But I'll save that for after Sherlock is better. _

Once they were in the flat, and in Sherlock's bedroom, Sherlock decided to ask, "My poor John, What have you done?" John was surprised that Sherlock called John his.

He looked at Sherlock and sighed, "I abandoned my home when it needed me the most. She hates me, because I left her to die. I guess now she's a Demon. Good for her, but I'll stay where I am for now."

Sherlock sat up, "And where exactly would that be?" _Oh no. now I have to tell him. Great._

John spoke, "I'm a vampire, Sherlock." John waited for Sherlock to react, or maybe tell him to get out and never come back.

Sherlock laughed, "Is that all?" _That's what he's been hiding from me? Please. If only he knew. _"God, if only you knew, John." John was confused now. What was it that he didn't know?

"If only I knew what? Sherlock?" Sherlock's face turned to a serious one.

He spoke in a low voice, "Do you wonder what a Demon tastes like?" John's eyes widened in surprise. _What?_ "John, I am a Demon. If you think you're horrible, then what am I?" Sherlock stood in front of John, "All better." He smiled and John stood to meet his burnet detective.

"But I killed her." John couldn't stop feeling guilty.

"I've tortured more souls than I can keep count of, your point?" Sherlock made them come closer. "You're no worse than I am." John felt happy, yet sad for Sherlock. _He's worse than I am. And he loves me? No. _"I love you. My dearest John. It's impossible, but impossible is interesting, isn't it?"

John nodded and smiled, "It is. And I love you, too." Their lips connected, not knowing who kissed who, but knowing that they would be happy. For the most part… 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Case Was Bait

Morning came to the boys of Baker Street, and the night that they spent together was not sexual, but still magical. Especially on Sherlock's part. He told John the many things that not even Mycroft knew. John also told secrets that not even the Demon hunting him knew. the Demon knows because she is a half sister to John, but she's always been a stranger to John. John also never accepted her into the family.

Sherlock stirred to find John passed out on top of him, "Mm. John." He would have pushed him off, but Sherlock was barely awake himself.

John finally woke, and rubbed his face into Sherlock's chest. "Sherlock," he looked to his detective. "We should probably finish that case." Sherlock nodded. John kissed his burnet lightly and went to the kitchen. But he couldn't reach the fridge without the detective stumbling after him and hugging him from behind, "Sherlock."

"John." Sherlock kissed his blogger's neck and sat down in a kitchen chair. The table was crowded with experiments. He sighed, "I know who killed the couple. Well, more of what, but still. I know."

John looked at him in disappointment. _How do I not know then? _"Who?" he sat down, "Or, what? " John eyed Sherlock as he tried to figure out how to say this.

He sighed and gave up. _I'll have to be blunt, and look like an asshole, but oh well. _"Your sister." John gave him a questioning look. _How does he know she's my sister? _"I know she's you sister because she didn't kill you when she had the chance. She blamed it on the injury. Which means she's being ordered by someone else." _Wow. Brilliant. So he knows more about her than I do. That's nice, just fucking fantastic. _

"Half." Sherlock gave him an intrigued glance, "Half sister. She has a different mother. So, half sister." _Idiot. He is slow sometimes. _

Sherlock nodded, "Well, then this case will go unsolved. She can't be caught for a human crime. I'll inform the police that there's nothing more that we can do. Meanwhile, you'll go to your sister, and ask if you can help her. I know you don't like it, but she is family and you have to help family. And I'm telling you, if you save her, she won't hate you. as much." _What do you know about family?_ John glared at him. "Well, get a move on it. I'll follow you later."

Sherlock basically kicked John out of the flat and texted Lestrade about the 'unsolved' case. Sherlock hated telling lies about his abilities, but in this case (literally) he had to, to protect his John. _Mine? John? Maybe…_

John went to the warehouse in hopes that Harry hadn't left. And she hadn't let all right, in fact, u could say that was too tied up to leave. Sherlock had caught up with John in time to see the scene that had John choked and silent. "Harry?" John rushed to see if his sister was really what he didn't want. But she was, she was dead. "Sherlock!"

Sherlock rushed to his lover's side, "John. I am sorry, but this. I honestly can't have sympathy for her. I'm sorry." John stood and gave him a long glare. Sherlock shriveled on the inside but on the outside he came closer and looked down on his blond. He raised his eyebrows, "Want to find her killer, or we just going to stand here?" John scoffed. And down the hallway they ran. At a certain point, the floor and ceiling became dirt and it was very dark. They could see, but just barely.

They eventually reached a room with a crimson door. They barged in and found simply a chair and a man in that chair. The room was as the hallway was: small and made completely of dirt. "Hello boys." John recognized this voice, from where he wasn't sure. Sherlock, on the other hand, knew exactly who had pursued them.

Sherlock nodded, "Hello, Father. What do you want?" _What could possibly have been so important that he had to kill for?_

"I just wanted to meet your boyfriend. Is that too much to ask, son?" Sherlock shook his head in disgust. His father rose from the simple chair and continued, "John Hamish Watson. You look promising. Are you taking good care of my hopeless case of a son?" John nodded, not sure what to say to someone like Sherlock's father.

He looked to his son, "I'll bet you've been bugging the hell out of poor John. Haven't you?" Sherlock shrugged. His father turned to John, "Has he?" John shook his head. "Good. I guess. So how's Mycroft? I know he must hate being human. Again."

Sherlock shook his head, "I thought you never cared for the brother you said I never had? Anyway, he's been great actually. Very successful. Not that you would really care. Do you?"

"Not in the slightest," his voice suddenly became very dark and his eyes turned from a pale blue, like Sherlock's to black. _So that's where his pretty eyes come from. _"But I have worried about you, Sherly. I heard you've been helping the humans in some of the dumbest of ways."

Sherlock glared at his father, "Detective work is not dumb. You, are dumb. Pretentious dick." _Again, you've crossed the line with your dirty mouth, Sherly. Ugh. _

"You know, you really should be careful what you say to your father. Especially with that case being a trap. Enjoy yourself. If you get out, that is." He disappeared and the earth they were standing in shook as everything started to fall on the detective and his blogger.

They ran back out of the hallway and to the concrete room that Harry was still strapped to the chair in. John whimpered as they ran out of the door and back to the sidewalk, where the whole building collapsed. It was then, just a pile of concrete, wood and dirt in front of them.

"Let's go." Sherlock took his blonde's hand and they ran back to the flat. The whole five miles, they just ran. They burst through the door, breathless and wishing they didn't have to go through all that. "I'm sorry," Sherlock finally apologized.

John shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. I was the one who has the worst background story in the history of backgrounds. No, I'm sorry."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and kissed his blond blogger. "I love you, that's all that matters."

John shrugged, "Ok." And again they were kissing.


End file.
